Bleeding Rose of Gotham
by JuneGilbertVivianRaeven
Summary: Rosa Ross thought she was done with the high stakes life of a celebrity. Wrong! When she attracts the eyes of Gotham's most famous (and infamous) men, Rosa will be catapulted back into the life she once knew... With a deadly twist. With the stakes higher than ever, does she have what it takes to survive the love sparked between her and a dark, fated hero? Read on to find out!
1. Chapter 1 Be Careful What You Wish For

Bleeding

Rose

By: Rosa Du Grey

Ghostwritten By: June Gilbert

Chapter One: Be Careful What You Wish For

WHUMP!

I woke up with a jerk when I fell off the bed for the third time this week. Grumpily I untangled myself from the sheets. _Great. Hope Carol didn't wake up. She's downright annoying when I wake her up with one of my nightmares. . ._ I listened closely to see if my unexpected visitor would wake up. Satisfied when Carol didn't come storming into my room, blue eyes flashing lances of fire and demanding to know why I had woken her up, I yawned. One glance at the digital clock on my old nightstand revealed it was really too early for me to start the commute to the school I worked at. Oh well. _I guess the school security guards will just have to put up with me_ _getting there early. They know me well enough from all the times I get there early anyway._ I smiled fondly at the memories as I prowled to the closet in my apartment.

Opening the doors of the closet, I grabbed my favorite outfit, the one I wore most often to the library._ The kids got confused if they saw me in anything else,_ I reflected wryly. Slipping on the long sleeved red shirt over the underthings I slept in, I gave a little twirl experimentally. That didn't help relieve the sense of déjà vu I felt when I got dressed every morning. Sighing, I finished dressing with a pair of black slacks and furry black boots lined with faux fur. Grinning, I luxuriously wiggled my toes in the lining. Winter in Gotham wasn't my favorite time of year, but I always made up for it with warm clothing. Carol, on the other hand, absolutely hated winter. _She had a bear's temperament to match her hibernating style, usually._

I walked out to the living room, where Carol was still curled under the blankets on my fold out couch. I smiled fondly. Carol Dennison had been my roommate in college, and the things we had done and shared in that old apartment during those four years at Gotham University still made me shudder. _We had certainly been hell raisers back then,_ I mused, smiling as I padded past carol on the tan carpet. _Carol was still a hell raiser, but I got the rebellion out of my system a while ago. Even though we hadn't talked much in the years we'd been apart, she was still a friend._ So when my blonde roommate had lost her job a few weeks ago, Carol had contacted me and I had allowed her to stay with me. I had let her stay at my apartment on the condition she continue to look for jobs, and when she found a job, to start looking for an apartment. I liked my solitude, but her company was a welcome relief to the tedium I was still experiencing. I sighed, shrugging off the mantle of boredom, knowing I had to go, or risk Shreve's wrath getting bad enough to really fire me.

I walked over to the brassy wall mounted coatrack. I slipped on my favorite snug red jacket, lined with black faux fur like my boots. Sure, both were pretty worn from use, but they both held fond memories of my college days.

Carol and I would both be turning twenty nine this year. Neither of us had settled down with a guy, and it didn't look like it would happen anytime soon. Carol hadn't met anyone that satisfied her and I. . . I just wasn't ready to commit. One of the many quarrels I got into with my on again off again boyfriend, Kenny Dreen. I smirked irritably as I exited my apartment into the chill December air, shutting and locking the door. Kenny was such a straight arrow it was a wonder I tolerated him.

Able to ignore the cold with my coat and boots on, I walked down the steps of my apartment complex. The winter-bare oak standing in front of our building rattled as a chill breeze blew a plastic bottle across the pavement. The pavement looked all the more starker with the small number of cars not in dilapidated shape from car theives stealing parts. Breathing in the smoggy city air, I spotted two more plastic bottles rolling along. Sighing, I picked the offending trash up and, on the way past, lobbed it all into the dumpster near my apartment building.

Sticking my hands in my pockets to warm them, I walked along the familiar streets of Gotham, the gothic sky scrapers bordering the street almost immeidiately when I got out of my apartment complex. As always, I kept my wits about me. Ten years in this city taught you to always look out when you walked alone. THEY would try to pounce when you were really alone. If you were lucky, HE came. The one who would, if he could, save us all. The scourge of the scum that haunted Gotham's streets. The fabled Batman.

His name alone made me shiver. Not with fear, but longing. The King of the night in Gotham. . . Just the idea of him sent a delicious thrill through me. Maybe I was craving the danger after so long without making mischief with Carol, but my heart leapt at the idea of trouble. Batman fought the scum of the city, protecting normal every day citizens like us with his very life. The thrill of danger always held a certain allure to me; maybe it was the violent way my mother met her demise.

* * *

_Flashback_

_I was seven years old as of that day. My flame colored hair swung merrily as I walked into my mother's room cheerily, hoping to find her there, reading as usual. I had been looking for her so she could help me find Daddy and start celebrating my birthday properly. I was happy to be turning seven, the luckiest number there was. Dad had told me so. And, at that age, didn't we believe whatever our parent's told us? I certainly did. I would have believed it was all a joke if Dad had only told me so._

_But he didn't. He was too mired in his own cold grief to deal with the shattered innocence and dreams of his little girl. I have a feeling I wouldn't have believed him, not after what someone had done to my sweet, loving mother on today of all days. My birthday. Supposed to be the happiest day of my life. . . And my mother is dead on this day. The day she gave birth to me. Someone murdered her in cold blood. And I found the horrific aftermath of a psycopath's playhouse... That came after I discovered her, however._

_My seven year old self tentatively prowled toward the bed, seeing my mother's unnaturally white hand hanging off her bed. Something red was oozing off the bed, coating Mommy's hand. I wrinkled my nose against unfamilliar, heavy-hanging scents, scents I would recognize later as the stench of fear, pain and desperation. When I was finally close enough, what I saw on my mother's bed made me start screaming. The shrillness and unusualness of my screaming soon drew my father. I was frozen in place, screaming wordlessly at the sight before me. Whether or not it was aloud, I did not stop screaming against the horror of it for many years._

_In some ways, I'm still screaming._

* * *

I shuddered, shaking free of the mire of memory. Now was not the time to go into that. It never was the time, but that particular memory escaped from it's cage sometimes. The cage in the back of my mind I had fought it into after two long years. As I began to stride with more purpose towards the nearest subway tunnel that would lead me down, I didn't see the hulking shadows trailing behind me.

I had been wishing for trouble, after all...

Be careful what you wish for.

* * *

The Clown King of Crime smiled silently as he watched his next victim walk to the subway. The girl with the flame colored hair and arrogant walk would be his, by hook or by crook. Crook. Funny! He WAS a crook! He started to giggle, but quieted himself. No need alerting the flame headed girl. Her hair danced in his distorted vision, a flame playing tricks on him. He didn't like to be tricked; he wanted to be the one doing the tricking. And the laughing as this girl screamed in her death throes. It would be fun to watch if Batsy found her body, all mangled up like her mother's before her. Yes, he had heard of the murder of Selene Ross. A devastating little number he had been wanting to pull on Bats for some time now.

Oh yes. The flame haired girl WOULD be his. And not even dear ol' Batsy will stop him this time.

* * *

**What do you think of the revamp? How was Rosa? Did I manage a Gothamite perspective of the Batman pretty well? This is a re done version of my first Batman fic, so please be polite in your constructive criticism. Please leave a review! Thank You ^^**

**-June**


	2. Chapter 2 Subway Shooting

Bleeding

Rose

Love conquers all

By: Rosa Du Grey

Ghostwritten By: June Gilbert

Chapter Two: Subway Shooting

I descended the subway steps, my ash grey eyes flicking around the familiar scenery. Same old dingy grey stone subway station, relatively the same commuters and the same damn dim lighting in spots. I guess it covered up the colorful gang graffiti, but it could make for some nasty muggings waiting to happen. Ten years of martial arts training had stopped me from becoming a victim to such a fate, and provided the excuse to step in when I saw one happening. So far, I had stepped in on at least seven per week. Some months anyway. Other months I wouldn't run into any muggings at all. The police down at many stations of Gotham's downtown knew me well; whenever I happened to bring in another mugger, they all greeted me, grinning in a friendly way when we traded banter.

I waited for the subway train, smiling as I watched a vaguely familiar brown haired child bounce with excitement beside his mother, his blue eyes bright. His mother shushed him, smiling indulgently anyway. A familiar dull ache surfaced, seeing this interaction. The interaction I would never have again, on either side. I would likely never be a mother, or HAVE a mother.

I was still a virgin even after being the beauty of the campus (for about a year). Other, more beautiful girls had come after me and yet I knew anywhere I went or any man I so much as smiled at would never forget me. Then someone had started spreading the rumors that I was frigid my senior year of college. I had a deep aversion to casual hook-ups and sex in general, a fact that just boosted the rumors' credibility as I refused to sleep with some of the hottest guys on campus because of my principles. The fact that I had an extreme aversion to relationships (friend or otherwise) with men was probably because they were SO high maintenance, along with the fact men create strife. I had been quite sick of the kind of strife men had caused, thank you, in my college days. Kenny had been the only guy to ever break past my barriers. Problem was, now I was getting bored of him. Because it seemed we had reached a standstill in our relationship. I wasn't ready for him to pop the question and neither was he ready to do so. We didn't have a sex life because of my issues with sex, and the teeny tiny little fact I wasn't turned on by him. Not one whit.

By the way, just to make it clear, I like GUYS. No offence to Yuri, but I prefer me some manly shoulders, pecs, and a hot butt to ogle. Yeah, yeah, I just admitted I like to watch guy's asses sometimes. _What girl doesn't like to do that once in a while?_

The subway train slid into the station, the exchange of people starting when the doors opened. I filed in, feeling that old, familiar sense of difference as I entered the old metal subway train car. The car stank of air freshener, used to mask the familiar scents of vomit, rodent feces, and rust pervading the whole of Gotham's subway system. I slid in, and sat down near the railing that separated the seats from the door area. However, fortune wasn't with me as I ended up sitting next to a corpulent man. He was dressed in a rumpled suit, and was sweaty, trembling and looking about so often it looked like he had a nervous twitch. Maybe he did. When he took out a cigar, his hands shaking as he lighted it and took a deep pull of the foul smelling thing, I wrinkled my nose. Smoking was a foul habit in my opinion. I had never gotten into it, not even in my wildest years because I couldn't handle the disgusting feeling of nicotine smoke entering my MOUTH, defiling it.

Disgusted and annoyed, I edged away as much as possible and then tried to watch the other passengers. I saw that same brown haired little boy from the station platform, staring wide eyed out of the subway window. I smiled; obviously it was George Fraser's first time on the subway.

I remembered him now; he was the kid who always pleaded for more science fiction or fantasy action stories at the elementary school where I worked. George loved hearing tales of high adventure, getting excited and cheering the hero and booing the villain. He had a strong sense of justice, and like almost all of the children living in Gotham, thrived on legends of the Batman. Honestly, I had gotten interested the moment I had heard of Batman too, so, in a way, we were kindred spirits. I had known him since he was five years old and just starting school as the shy, awkward little new boy. Now he was seven years old and practically a social butterfly. His mother, Martha Fraser, kept a weather eye on him so he wouldn't do anything particularly silly. Children tend to have a silly streak that gets them into trouble, and George was no exception.

Martha was a smart, practical woman who worked for Wayne Corp industries as a secretary to the big man himself, Bruce Wayne. I had only seen the man on TV, but Martha had told me a horror story or two about the man's odd habits. He only visited the company when he could, which was apparently at all sorts of hours during the night. Martha ended up called in nine times out of ten because he needed someone to calm him down. The guy apparently had horrid nightmares and tended to work them off. From what Martha told me, it seemed Bruce Wayne was nocturnal. Anyway, Martha was paid well for the job and had excellent benefits so she could take care of George quite easily.

I blinked, shaking my head to clear it of thoughts of Gotham's White Knight. I had no business thinking about a man that high in society's upper echelons. I wasn't a part of that life any longer. I had abandoned that life ten years ago, in favor of my freedom and my sanity.

I looked around for more passengers to watch, as the fat man's trembles grew with every passing second he sucked at that cigar in the seat beside me. A raggedy old woman, bent with age, sat across from me. A fidgeting young blonde girl sat a few seats down, her brother having his nose buried in an electronic game. A stranger in a trench coat stood in a shadowy corner, catching my interest. Until murderous black eyes gleamed out at me from under the fedora hat he wore. I quickly looked away. _Uh oh. Something's up. . . . _I felt a frisson of fear slide down my spine as I looked around for another subject to watch. A slender, busty brunette examining her nails was next to the old woman, dressed in designer clothes. Even with my one of a kind fiery red hair, I felt dowdy in comparison to the model-like woman. She tapped her nails against her hand, then against the metal subway seat. This was when one of her nails cracked.

"Oooooo! I cracked a naaaaiiil!"I winced. She had a high, petulant voice that was at complete odds with her outward appearance.

"Hahahahahahahahahaaaaaa! Bbbbroken nail! Hahahahaaaaa!"

I jumped as the fat man began to laugh wildly. The laughing, the twisted rictus emerging on the fat man's face, the paling of his skin and widening of his eyes were all too familiar to any Gothamite, no matter how long you had lived here. Somehow, some way, Joker Gas had gotten into the fat man's system. I bet on the cigar. I moved away, but not quite quick enough. Without quite realizing how or when I got there, I was slamming into the dirty metal floor of the subway tunnel the man's fat, grasping hands closing on my throat. Gasping for breath, my vision dimmed and focused repeatedly as I struggled under the weight of the man, which had become insurmountable with his fat legs and torso on my lower body. To add to my disgust I could feel his hard on in those too tight and ill-fitting pants he wore.

_Is this how it ends? Is this how everything I've struggled for, is everything I've fought tooth and nail for over? Even after I've been through Hell and back, will my life be ended because of a madman's schemes?_

_ No. _

_ I will not die here._

_ I won't die helpless. Mother died that way. I WILL NOT GIVE UP! DON'T COUNT ME OUT JUST DAMN YET YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! _

My leg slammed upward as adrenaline pounded through my body, giving it more strength than what my increasingly lacking air supply could give. The fat man shrieked, rolling off me and clutching his crotch. Rising bonelessly as I caught my breath, I stood, hands akimbo as I waited for him to rise. However, he started laughing again, foaming at the mouth and shaking with the force of the laughter until he went silent and still all of a sudden. The abrupt silence was deafening as I stared in shock at the dead man lying in front of me. I had only once seen a dead body, and it wasn't quite like the pale faced, bloated THING lying there prone. I started to shake as the adrenaline slowly left my system.

It was back full force when the man in the shadows split into three people and started firing their guns.

I dodged the initial spray of bullets, heart hammering as I heard screams from the other passengers. I glanced at the door and, to my horror, I realized the doors were sealed shut with some kind of sticky phosphorescent green glue. Shrieks and screams were heard as the clown-faced gunmen fired relentlessly. My throat choked when I saw a bloodied DSi screen still clutched in its dead owner's slender boyish hands, stained with his lifeblood as his sister started screaming in abject terror and horror. My fists clenched. _FUCKING BASTARDS!_ One of them turned towards me and I disarmed him in a flash, following it up with another crotch shot.

While he was howling, I caught him with an uppercut that slammed him into a wall. The short clown slid down the wall, out stone cold with the one punch. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted the other gunman turn his gun on George and Martha. _Martha. I have to protect Martha and George! _I raced over to where George and Martha were cowering in a corner, George weeping loudly and nearly scared out of his mind because of the gun barrel pointed directly at him. Martha was calmer, although she had a grim countenance that I had never seen before as she glared down the barrel of the gun, daring the gunman to try to take her son's life. _Just you wait, _the expression seemed to say, _I'll go to Hell before I let my baby die at anyone's hands._ The brunette woman was shielding her son with her body from the carnage. She winced when a spray of blood spattered across her back. I dived in front of her just as the gunman fired.

The bullets tore into the small of my back. I could feel the slugs' bite as I staggered somewhat at the impact of the close range shot. Bleeding profusely from behind, I whirled around and slammed my foot into the man's jaw, hearing it snap along with the shattering of glass and the scream of ripping metal. HE made his appearance as he dropped into the subway car. I got a glimpse of my hero as he finished the job I had started. _The Dark Knight! Oh my god, I'm hallucinating. . . Blood loss is getting to me. . ._ Staggering, my legs gave out as I toppled into the cold metal wall. Sinking down, everything started to get foggy. _No! I fought so hard! I'm not going to die now! _But it seemed, regardless of my will, my body was fast losing the will to fight.

Then I heard George sobbing. Tiny hands clutched at one of my pale ones as a familiar voice whimpered, "Miss Rosa. . . Don't die. . . Don't die! Please don't die! I want to hear you t-t-tell me stories again. . . I wanna listen to the radio with you and hear about th-the B-B-Batman like we do after school sometimes again. . . Please don't die!"

I struggled to stay awake, my eyes flickering. _You can't let the child down, _a voice whispered through my increasingly foggy mind, _Don't leave this world when you haven't touched our love's heart! Don't leave him alone forever in the darkness of his never ending crusade. . . Give him the fire to fight on! _I had no fucking idea who was speaking in my head, or quite who they were speaking of, but the voice gave me enough strength to open my eyes. Batman was about to leave through the gaping skylight he had left in the subway car. _No! Don't go! _

"Mr. Batman! Mr. Batman!"

The Dark Knight turned back at the sound of that pleading little voice. George was staring pleadingly up at the much taller figure clad in black, his hands still clasped over mine.

"Please help her! Miss Rosa saved us! A-And now she might be dying because of it. . . Can't you save her? Please?"

There was a long moment where Batman just stared at George. The Dark Knight's eyeholes showed no emotion as he knelt next to me, but I swear I could have seen a flash of empathy from those blank white eyes when he was still looking at George. Pressing a pouch on his utility belt, two white pad bandages fell out along with a small red pill. He tipped me forward, his hands amazingly gentle as he did so, resulting in me wincing and coughing up blood. He then pressed the white pad to the still leaking bullet wounds on my back and front.

His lips were very close as he did this, the only part of his anatomy unmasked, leading me to concentrate on memorizing them rather than the pain of what he was doing. Easing me back down to the floor to put pressure on the back hole, he pressed hard on the front hole. I hissed in pain through gritted teeth. _Ow. Bullets hurt like fuck. At least the bullets didn't go through me and hit George and Martha._ I coughed when I felt the small red pill slip past my lips.I saw Batman stand up again after placing George's little hands on the slight scratches the bullets had made in my front. He leaned on them as he had seen Batman do. I winced. _He did NOT need to put that much pressure on the cuts. . ._

"That should hold her until the paramedics can get here if you keep the pressure on it. Make sure she gets medical attention soon."

The Dark Knight's voice was a deep rasp, but somehow, it didn't grate on my shot nerves. Nor did I miss the frightened looks cast around by the survivors. The Batman rarely, if ever spoke. I understood their fear and confusion, but something felt right when he spoke. _Like an Avatar of Justice was speaking to those he protected._ I groaned softly as my day so far caught up with me. My vision blurred as the black shadow that was Gotham's eternal protector vanished upwards into the night that had spawned him. Moments later, I slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

**(Joker's POV)**

DAMMIT! The stupid minions had SHOT the flame girl! He wanted her alive! It was no fun if he mutilated her body while she was cold and lifeless... It was only fun when he could hear the screams.

SOME particular minion would pay for this with more than going to jail this time... He stomped over to his gun. Grabbing it, he promptly shot the tv where he had watched the incident happen.

BANG!

_Ohhhh... And that's only the beginning of my stress relief... _A yellow-toothed grin stretches from ear to ear. Quite literally in his case. Rubbing his hands together, gun forgotten, he started to plan the punishment for the one who had goofed up and very nearly ruined his plan to have Rosa.

* * *

**Heya ^^ I finally updated :) So what do you think of Rosa's first meeting with the Dark Knight? She will meet his alter ego, Bruce Wayne, later on. What do you think of the Joker tidbit I inserted? Please read and review! **

**-June **


	3. Chapter 3 Waking Up Terror

Bleeding

Rose

Love conquers all

By: Rosa Du Grey

Chapter Three: Waking Up

I woke slowly. My front slowly throbbed, registering a faint pain from where the bullets had ripped flesh. I realized I wasn't bleeding anymore, which was good. The confusing thing was that I was lying on what felt like a hospital bed. A constant beeping assailed my ears. Wincing even with my eyes closed, I made an irritable noise as the thing's beeping just sped up. Warily, I cracked an eye open. The lights were dim enough to allow me to fully open my eyes without repercussions. The room was still; except for the beep of what looked like a heart monitor and the faint glow of the moon on the black TV screen. A solitary nurse passed by my room after peering into the full length plexi glass window next to the door. She apparently didn't think it was anything serious that I was sitting up after I had been shot twice in the abdomen.

A glance around from my new position revealed no one in the darkened room with me. I didn't find being alone in the room too disturbing. _Carol probably couldn't be woken. I'm usually the only one who can get away with waking her up before twelve noon without hearing about it until midnight. _I smiled as I thought of days in college when I had had to roust my roommate for her classes. It had been incredibly annoying at the time, but now I could look back and laugh. Not so much when Carol went back to her old habits, but still, my college days were when I was most alive. I frowned when I thought of that. _Oh, how ironic... The days I was still in hiding being the days I lived the most. My life, until now, has been peaceful. I guess I've forgotten how to deal with conflict._

I twitched as I heard male feet land on the linoleum floor. I could tell the difference between male and female because of the pattern of stride and often, male feet came down heavier than female feet. Depending on the woman's weight, of course. My eyes flicked warily about as I heard the footsteps growing closer in the now eerily silent hospital.

The speedily increasing beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor was growing irksome as well. It sounded in my ears as my heart began to thud. _Where the hell are the cops?! I thought they'd be guarding me after something like this... After all, it seems a particular madman might just be out to get me. _I rose from my bed, wincing at the soreness of my legs. The footsteps grew closer as I tugged the monitors off of me carefully. Wincing as I tugged out the IV carefully, I froze as I heard the footsteps grow far too close for comfort. A wet smack and a few seconds later, the footsteps were receding down the corridor. Realizing I was wearing nothing but a skimpy hospital gown, I rooted around in the closet for my clothes. _Surely they didn't toss them... _

_ Oh rats. _It seems they had. At least, my shirt and bra were nowhere to be found. I groaned as pain shot through my middle when I leaned over. _Lord, I'm going to hate myself in the morning for this curiosity. ... ._I slid on the pants I found, regardless of how stinky they smelt. Probably from the Joker-gassed idiot on the subway... I prowled toward the door, opening it with a creak that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. _Who left doors squeaky in a HOSPITAL, of all places? Wouldn't they be better maintained? _I poked my head out the door, choking as I smelled blood. Holding my nose, I gathered my wits in time to see the bloodied face of a cop smiling back at me.

I screamed, scrabbling backwards. _No! Nononononononooooo! Not again! Not again! Whyyyy?! _The female cop had been slit open from her chin to her waist, revealing all the vital organs inside. She had the cracked smile of someone who had been Joker gassed. _Oh my fucking god... Joker's been here... He's after me! _I was only faintly aware of the fact that my body temperature was rising.

I stood up, turning on my heel and moving to the window, wild thoughts racing through my head as my body shook like a leaf. I was scared out of my mind what I might find in the other halls of the hospital, so my wild thoughts were wandering where they had only wandered when I had been at my very, very lowest point in life. I had hit rock bottom once before. I was getting there again. My heart pounding even faster, I stared out the window into the embrace of the night city. Slamming up the window sill, I stared out, letting the wind caress through my hair, sending it behind me like a ridiculously jaunty banner. _One little step... That's all it would take... One step and all this pain would be over... Joker wouldn't be able to pursue me into hell..._

_ Would he?_

I shuddered, preparing to heave myself out the window. I was of no use to anyone. Batman shouldn't have saved me that day... I wasn't worth the effort of saving...

I screamed aloud as a dark figure swooped into the window, knocking me backwards and onto my butt, despite years of balance training. My tear stained (I hadn't even realized I was crying at that point) eyes looked up to see a figure that was once in a lifetime glimpse for most Gothamites.

The Batman.

He was an imposing figure, even as he just stood there. His white eyes were focused on me intently as he just... Looked. As if to say _How dare you attempt to waste what I gave you! _I started to shiver silently, frightened by how silent he was. He reminded me of an imposing column of black stone. _A very well built stone pillar, at that. _My cheeks heated at the naughty thought. _Well, what girl DOESN'T have naughty thoughts about darkly handsome hotties once in a while_, I tried to reason with myself as he just stared.

"Come with me. It isn't safe here."

_ What? Am I hallucinating? _

"Wh-why?"

"You saw the guard, didn't you?"

_Damn. I hate it when he answers a question with a question... Wait, I should answer anyway._

"Yes."

Batman simply gave me a look, as if that explained it all.

"Where are we going?"

Batman then gave me a "Stupid!" look, or at least I could have sworn he was giving me such a look under the mask. I sighed. I really did need to stop trying to guess what he was thinking.

"Okay, I get it. No questions like that. Anyway-"

CRASH! The windows next to the hospital doors blew out and I practically jumped into the Batman's arms. He caught me, turning immediately and making his exit through the window. I was too frightened to scream as, in a whirlwind of sensation, we fell into the waiting Batmobile. I was still trying to catch my breath as the lid of the car slid over us and Batman started the car. I jumped as the engine purred to life, power in every nuance of sound. I sighed, not noticeably over the hum of the engine as Batman pressed the gas pedal. We went along with mind blowing speed, me still trying to calm down from our hasty exit. I glanced over at Batman, who gripped the wheel tightly and simply stared ahead through the semi-tinted glass.

Once my heart began to return to a normal rate, I relaxed into my seat. Batman would protect me. He protected all of Gotham. _How hard could it be to protect one woman?_

Oh, if only I knew...

I focused on the road we were eating up at an unbelievable speed. Once the day and night I had caught up to me, I started to shake weakly. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried not to have a nervous breakdown in front of my hero. Trying to ease my breathing, I barely noticed when he glanced over at me. Before I knew it, a blindfold was around my face. I yelped and tried to take it off.

"Don't do that. Keep that on until we reach a safe spot."

"A-alright..."

I left it alone. I soon had other things to occupy my mind as I felt the Batmobile rock under the impact of what felt like a bomb. I stayed silent as I watched Batman press several buttons on the dashboard of the Batmobile, and gunshots fired behind us. Stiffening, I wondered if it was the Joker who had caught up with us. I couldn't see a thing with the damn blindfold over my face... This was frustrating. _I have to know! Is that psychopath chasing us? Or is it someone else who just spotted the Batman and decided to take a couple potshots? Agh, I can't stand not knowing! Fuck this blindfold. Ignorance isn't bliss after all... _I tore the blindfold off. I ignored Batman's obviously- for him- irritated expression in favor of wiggling around to peer around, trying to get my bearings. I had to know whether or not that damn crazy was chasing us or my mind would start inventing things I really didn't want to follow right now. Too damn scary.

I was soon given the answer when I spotted, dimly through the tinted glass, a massive, garishly purple truck speeding alongside us. The thing had a crazily grinning white faced clown on the front. I shuddered, the memory of the guard's corpse coming to mind. I didn't want to die like this... I WOULDN'T die like this! I started to feel hot inside the interior of the car. It felt like the walls were closing in, suffocating me and squeezing a vise around my head. Groaning faintly, I doubled over, yelping when my head banged into the sleek side of the Batmobile at a sharp turn. Straightening up with my head smarting, I squeezed my eyes shut. Seeing was so overrated... ow..._ I never asked for a psycho clown to chase me... Why the hell is Joker interested in me? Interested enough to kill..._

My eyes snapped open when I felt the Batmobile wracked by a shuddering explosion, the vehicle nearly flipping. Amazingly, I was completely silent as I saw images flash before my eyes. My mother, both alive and happy and that particular image that was burned into my brain. My father, both the loving man I knew and the cold, indifferent soul he had become after my mother' s death. My stepmother, yelling obscenities as she chased after me for some small misdemeanor. Carol, the wild blonde of our college days and the older, still crazy blond that had been sleeping on my couch not an hour past. How I'd miss them...

It was only the incredible reflexes of the Batman that kept us from rolling over; he drove against the wall for a while, then getting us back on solid ground as lasers fired off at the purple truck, popping their tires. I stared blankly ahead, trying to regain my wits as we sped on ever faster into the black night of Gotham.

* * *

**Batman's POV**

Her flame colored hair still danced in his mind, tweaking and yanking at his usual calm, inside and out. It wasn't just her hair. Her impressive courage under fire; even when the car had nearly flipped, she had not screamed, or even uttered a sound as he knew may females would. She didn't cry when shot, and those Grey eyes were disturbingly perceptive. The first time they met, he could have sworn those piercing eyes saw under his mask. He knew it was just a feeling, nothing more. The girl couldn't possibly have x-ray vision as Clark had. He had no meta-human readings off her when he scanned her briefly with the sensors installed in the eyes of his mask. Then again, there could always be an equipment malfunction, but he doubted it. He could make sure once he got back to the cave.

Rosa Ross, twenty eight years old and employed as an assistant librarian in West Gotham Elementary. He had no trouble discovering that she had lived in Gotham for ten years, went to Gotham U for college and majored in archeology and ancient history. About her life in Gotham, everything was an open book. Nothing for her to hide.

However, go back ten years and nothing at all. It was as if Rosa Ross had never existed. He was still bothered by that. He hadn't time to truly search and hack for her records with the Joker loose. Joker was wreaking all sorts of havoc since his last escape from the revolving door at Arkham Asylum, not the least of which being wreaking havoc with this young woman's life. The Joker's thugs had very nearly gunned her down in the subway system only two days ago. And there she was on that ledge, about to throw herself off. _Stupid woman. Taking your own life solves nothing. And from what I read about you and that day on the subway, you have far too many people who care deeply for you to go messing about with suicide. A little boy loves you enough to beg for your life, and you intend to throw it away? _

He shook his head, a slight to and fro movement. He couldn't focus on the interesting holes in her past or the personality defects that, admittedly, intrigued and irritated him. He needed to get her to a safe spot unless he wanted Joker to get to her.

He didn't, seeing as the psychopath getting to her would be a highly undesirable result. Setting the autopilot for one of his hidden bases within the city, he glanced over at Rosa. Her face was white and she stared ahead blankly, her normally piercing gray eyes hazed over. There was a sheen of sweat on her pale skin and her breathing was noticeably elevated. Mentally he swore. He should have checked her over for the signs of any type of shock first. Increasing the Batmobile's speed, he pulled over into an abandoned parking lot, the pavement cracked with grass slowly reclaiming the concrete. He parked easily, fishtailing into a stop. He heard Rosa's audible gasp, and knew that had at least partly woken her from the stupor she had been in.

He leaned over, putting a gloved hand to her face. This was usually enough to get most people's attention, but her eyes were still glazed. He sighed, an inaudible sound. He hated to resort to this, honestly. He never liked doing this to women. Especially those who were with him through no fault of their own.

SMACK!

* * *

**Rosa's POV**

I yelped as I completely came out of the daze I had slipped into. Batman was gazing fixedly at me, to see if his remedy had worked. I had felt the numbness dissipate and sharp pain in my head replace it. I winced, placing a hand to my temple. He ignored me, starting the Batmobile again. I numbly listened and watched as he started off again, only to fishtail- as if he was trying to shake something off. Worried and unhappy, I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

Sometimes ignorance was bliss.

Some time later, after several bone-jarring maneuvers, I managed to gather the courage to open my eyes fully. We were hurtling along a darkened road with only the headlights to guide us. My eyes widened when I realized we were barreling down the little-used road toward a solid rock wall.

I shut my eyes again. Quick.

* * *

**I'm sorry... Not much a/n since updated laaaaaate... So sorry I haven't updated in so long, but here is a chappie for you who still read this story of mine... I promise I haven't forgotten it. :) Leave a review?  
-June**


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